The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1887-06-04

prevent that young party from chuckine
herself away. | was watching her myself
but wasn't so near as you, said police
man of the rs" division, emerging from
the furze bushes. "I've seen her twice
before in early morning"
"Do you know her?" l asked.
'No, sir; l don't think she lives here
abouts, and | don't fancy she's lady
MeditativeIy, "She hasn't got no locket, no
feather"
My opinion was the reverse.
keep lookout near the pool, then, my
man; you understand ?" said |, slipping
half crown into his hand
"Thank you, sir; I'll keep my weather.
eye open. A nod S as good as a wink to a
blind horse"
For days after this adventure that girls
pathetic voice rang in my ears-her beau
tiful dark eyes seemed ever before me.
When | slept l dreamed she had thrown
herself into the pool and was powerless
to save her life.
1t chanced at this time that | had to
call at my surgical-instrumen makers in
the Strand. A block of vehicles having
occurred in that crowded thoroughfare, |
waited at crossing, and CHANGING to glance
into cab Immediately in front of me, what
did l see but the brown bonnet, and
through its gauze veil the exquisite profile
l longed again to behold. A gentleman was
seated beside her. Glancing at him, a
feeling possessed me that he was not un-
familiar to me; but it was not until the cab
began to move that | identified him., 1t
was my nocturnal visitor of Rue Ste. Mar
guerite. He, of all men in the world, to
be that poor girls companion Without
moments hesitation determined to fol-
low them. A crawling hanson was pass
ing (never again shall they be anathema-
tized by me). sprang into it, telling the
driver to follow the four-wheeler in advance
of him. Its destination proved to be Fen
church Street Station. Avoiding observa-
ton, l watched my Partisan acquaintance
take tickets for Ongar. l then took one
also. Following them to the platform, |
noted that the young lady assembled the
stairs wearily, looking neither right nor
left. The man, on the contrary, seemed
all activity; he was well dressed now, and
had shaved off his untidy light beard, wear
ing black moustache instead-dyed, of
course.
They entered carriage, | its neighbor,
and the train started. Beyond Stafford
Essex begins to get pretty, and at Ongar it
is quite rural A fly was waiting at the
door of the quiet little station. With his
left hand the man carried small portman-
teau; his right arm was thrust in the breast
Of his coat. He hurried his companion to
enter the vehicle, which drove away down
long country road.
"Whose trap is that?" asked the por-
ter.
"Mr. Wilkinson's, sir, of the Grown
In.
SIS it going far? 1 should like to hire
it"
at won't be back for hours, sir. It's
going to the mad doctors at Denesbridge-
a long drag for one hanimal.
This was unexpected intelligence.
"What is his name 2
"Dr Gryce, sir. don think he makes
much of do of it, for he doesn't keep no
trap, no orse, no nothing; and his house is
ramshackled old place, good enough for
madhouse, | suppose"
To fill up the time strolled through the
clean little town until the departure of the
next train, wondering how to gain some
intelligence of the hapless girl, whom it
panied me to see in company with person
| had set down as a mdurais sYet. Was
he taking her to lunatic asylum? Iwon-
dered. Was there anything amiss with her
mind? No, no; impossible. She had been
wild with despair that lovely June morn
ing-nothing more. remembered her
evident struggle for composure, her replies
to my questions. These were not indica-
tions Of insanity. My previous interest
in her deepened, but l returned to
town without having formed course of
action, unwilling that fate was working
for me.